


Reconditus: Plans Best Laid by Becky - Part 4

by pat_t



Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 23:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14175354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pat_t/pseuds/pat_t
Summary: This was a round robin challenge based upon a Jubie picture. It is told in 6 parts, in the following order:Musings and Considerations, by Pat_TGambit of the Black Knight, by elistaireDesires and Fancies, by Pat_TPlans Best Laid, by BeckyHoist by Two Petards, by sidhe_swordJokes and Fried Eggs, by Pat_T





	Reconditus: Plans Best Laid by Becky - Part 4

**Author's Note:**

> This was a round robin challenge based upon a Jubie picture. It is told in 6 parts, in the following order:
> 
> Musings and Considerations, by Pat_T  
> Gambit of the Black Knight, by elistaire  
> Desires and Fancies, by Pat_T  
> Plans Best Laid, by Becky  
> Hoist by Two Petards, by sidhe_sword  
> Jokes and Fried Eggs, by Pat_T

****  
Plans Best Laid  
By Becky 

 

If you want it, here it is come and get it, ummm ... make your mind up fast.

If you want it, anytime I can give it, But you better hurry cause it may not last…

Duncan opened one eye and glared at the clock radio. Punching the off button before he had to listen to any more of that ridiculously idiotic song, he noticed the time. 8:00 am. Damn. He was usually up before this, but last night had been draining. Trying to keep his mind on the conversation instead of the smooth curve of Methos' neck where it disappeared under his shirt collar was mentally exhausting. He didn't think Methos had noticed. Luckily, the old man had seemed a little preoccupied at times himself.

Rolling over onto his back, Duncan tucked one arm under his head and stared up at the ceiling. What the hell was he going to do? Telling a prospective lover how he felt had never been a problem in the past. Usually he'd let his actions speak for him first: a touch, a caress, a kiss. But, this was Methos. The sudden knowledge that Duncan was attracted to him sexually would very likely cause Methos to recoil in horror and hop on the first plane to anywhere. Duncan might never see him again, and that was something he couldn't chance. Best to try to let it go. Be content to just stay friends with the old pain in the ass. Of course, any thought combining 'ass' with Methos caused his brain to leapfrog into fantasyland, and imagine that ass in all sorts of positions. Disgusted with himself, Duncan flung back the covers, grabbed his robe and headed for the shower.

~~~~~~

Methos was dreaming. He was standing at the bottom of a long, winding staircase. Not a gleaming, golden staircase like one might find in fairy tales. This one appeared to have been chiseled from stone. Some of the steps were broken and crumbling. Others gleamed like marble. Methos looked up, all the way up to the very top…and there stood Duncan, smiling down at him. He started up the stairs, careful to step around the cracks and over the broken places. He kept his eyes on Duncan. And just as he was about to reach the top he heard a loud banging. At first he thought it was his heart hammering, but no, the noise was coming from somewhere else. Looking around, he saw a man with a hammer and chisel, pounding away at the staircase, attempting to break up the very steps he was trying to climb. Methos launched himself at the man, yelling at him to stop…and launched himself right out of bed and onto the floor. Sitting up in a tangle of sheets, he realized that the banging was in reality coming from someone beating on his front door. Glancing at the clock, he saw that it was 10:00 am. Swearing, he stumbled out of the sheets, and went to see who the bloody hell wanted what.

He opened the door just in time to see a delivery van pulling away from the curb. On his doorstep lay a long, white box tied with a large, red bow. Methos raised an eyebrow. He picked up the box and brought it inside. "What the hell is this?" Even though he knew it to be a florist box, he was still surprised when he opened it and found a dozen, long-stemmed, red roses. He fished out the card that was tucked among the stems and stared at it.

~~~ To Adam  
It's time we stopped dancing around our attraction to one another.  
Call me.  
Duncan ~~~  
Methos was stunned. Actually, stunned was putting it mildly. Duncan sent him roses? Duncan was attracted to him? Duncan wanted him to call? He kept rereading the card over and over again in an attempt to convince himself that it was real. Could it really be this simple? How had he not seen it? Gradually, the shock and surprise gave way to euphoria. A slow flush of warmth began in his toes, and crept all the way up his body until it lit his face in a wide smile. Reaching for the phone, he dialed Duncan's number. The answering machine picked up. Methos replaced the receiver. This was a call he would make in person.

~~~~~~  
Duncan was juggling two bags of groceries and the mail when he let himself into the dojo. He noticed the box on the doorstep just in time to keep from stepping on it. "Flowers? Huh." He shoved the box with his foot, pushing and kicking it all the way into the elevator. Reaching the loft, he unloaded the groceries first, and then went back to the elevator for the box. Sliding off the red bow, he opened it, and immediately his senses were filled with the sweet fragrance coming off the red roses inside. He put his nose into the bouquet and inhaled deeply. "Mmmmm." He took out the card, read it, and almost dropped the box.  
~~~ To Duncan  
It's time we stopped dancing around our attraction to one another.  
Call me.  
Adam ~~~

Duncan stared at the card, a dozen thoughts bumping into each other in his mind. Methos sent him roses? Methos was attracted to him? Methos wanted him to call? He kept rereading the card over again in an attempt to convince himself that it was real. Could it really be this simple? How had he not seen it? His sense of confusion gave way to happiness so intense it made him light-headed. He moved toward the phone, but stopped in his tracks as immortal presence prickled down his spine. Hearing a knock on the stairwell door, Duncan grinned, thinking that it must be Methos. He was still grinning, as he flung open the door.

Methos stood on the landing, a grin on his face to match Duncan's, twirling one long-stemmed, red rose in his fingers. Duncan noticed the rose Methos held. Looking up, he saw Methos staring pointedly at the box of roses in Duncan's hand. Duncan's emotions went through a series of rapid changes, from elation to surprise, to confusion. Looking into Methos' eyes, he saw the same confusion mirrored there.

"You got flowers too?" Methos asked.

"The card," Duncan croaked, and he had to stop to clear his voice, "said they're from you!"

"I see. And the card I received said mine were from you." Metho's eyes narrowed and all expression seemed to drain right out of his face. "It would seem someone is playing an odd joke on us." He brushed past Duncan, poking the rose he carried into the box still held in Duncan's grip.

"But why would anyone do that?" Duncan couldn't keep the disappointment out of his voice. He closed the door and turned to look at Methos. Methos was watching him closely. Shit. Too closely, Duncan decided, and he quickly turned towards the kitchen, busying himself with finding a vase for the roses. Damn those ancient eyes; they didn't miss much. It wouldn't do for Methos to realize that he was disappointed, that he'd actually been happy to think that the flowers were from him. That might bring about that very discussion that he'd vowed to himself that he wasn't going to have.  
~~~~~~

Methos had apparently missed a great deal. Only now he finally saw something. Duncan was flustered. And that set Methos to thinking.

"Mac…you really thought I'd sent you roses, didn't you?"

Duncan paled. "What? No! I really hadn't had time to think much of anything, I'd only just opened them when you got here." He made a good show of opening and closing cabinets in the kitchen. Finally pulling a vase out of one, he set about putting the roses in it.

Methos sauntered into the kitchen and moved in close behind where Duncan was standing at the counter. Slowly, he reached around and placed one hand on the counter to Duncan's left, and the other hand on the counter to Duncan's right. Duncan went perfectly still. Leaning in towards the gorgeous neck just in front of his nose, Methos breathed in the spicy, soapy clean scent that he had only ever caught before as Duncan walked past him. Now it mixed with the scent of the roses, and he drank the heady mixture in.

"Mac…I thought you'd sent me roses too." His lips brushed Duncan's ear. "I wanted to think it." He kissed Duncan's neck. "I came over here so that we really could put an end to this infernal dance." He kissed around the nape of Duncan's neck.

Duncan turned inside the enclosure of Metho's arms, took Metho's face in his hands, and kissed him. All the tension that had been slowly building throughout the last weeks, months, years, gave way, and Duncan kissed him with a passion that thrilled Methos. His arms closed around Duncan, bringing him closer, as Duncan's tongue seemed to be exploring every inch of Methos' mouth. He wanted to kiss like this for hours, days even. But apparently Duncan wanted other things, as his hands had begun working to strip Methos of his clothing, and his lips had begun a descent down his neck.

They worked their way across the loft, kicking off shoes, stumbling on jeans, laughing, finally falling as one onto the bed. Low moans filled the loft as hands and mouths mapped smooth skin over hard muscle, and they reveled in the sensation of skin against skin. Two hands joined together around their cocks and their lips locked together once again. They moved in synch, finding a rhythm and letting it build to a crescendo. When orgasm overtook them, they clung to each other, letting the white-hot wave of sensation flow through them, holding on until their bodies stilled, and they lay panting in each other's arms.

Neither of them spoke for several long minutes. With some effort, Methos pushed himself up and looked down at Duncan. "It might be a good idea if we cleaned up. If we fall asleep like this, we'll wake up glued together."

Duncan grinned, slid out from under Methos and disappeared into the bathroom. A minute later, he returned with a warm, wet washcloth, with which he proceeded to wash them both clean. Methos lay back, obviously enjoying the sponge bath.

"You know," he said as he watched Duncan through half-closed eyes. "This doesn't answer the question of who sent the roses."

Duncan tossed the washcloth back into the bathroom. "Whoever it was," he said as he climbed back under the covers, "deserves roses of their own."

Methos grinned as Duncan descended for another kiss.

~~~~~~~


End file.
